Cast no shadow
by Katlyn
Summary: When Draco and Harry are both in trouble, who will be the one to help them? Includes slightly dark, depressed Harry, and Draco's possibly a bit more understanding.


Chained to all the places that he never wished to stay  
Bound with all the weight of the words he tried to say  
As he faced the sun he cast no shadow  
-Oasis, Cast no Shadow

Severus entered the headmaster's office with unusual haste.  
"Albus, I have just returned from Lucius' house. Draco is in serious trouble." He collapsed on a chair in front of the desk.  
Albus looked questioningly at the potions master. "What sort of trouble?"

Severus put a hand over his eyes. "He refused the dark mark. And now Lucius is punishing him. I didn't get a chance to see Draco for myself, but if what Narcissa told me is correct, then he is in danger of his life." He paused and took a shuddering breath. "Albus, we have to do something."

While Severus had been talking, Albus had stood and walked over to another table, with a map lying on it. "That's odd" He murmured to himself as he perused the map. Snape's head shot up.

"What's odd" I'll tell you what's odd, it's odd that I tell you that my godson is in mortal danger, and you ignore me to look at a map." He said, voice rising as he tried to get through to the headmaster.

"Severus, please calm down, I am only saying that it is odd because this map monitors every student in this school. It is a way of making sure that they are all treated well, yet there are no signs of any student being mistreated." He moved back to his desk to get his wand. "The map must be faulty, and I dread to think what that could mean, it could be that more students are mistreated, and we never knew."

Severus moved to stand next to the headmaster. "Then fix it, I am sure that it can't be too hard."

Albus smiled, a shadow compared to his normal smile, and waved his wand over the map and said "monstrare studium patiri" The ma flickered and three lights flickered on. All three were different colours.

"Albus, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that spell didn't seem to work, two of those lights belongs to Potter." He spat the name out, as if merely saying it was poison.

Albus' forehead was wrinkled with confusion, and he looked at the legend that was on the side of the map "Yes, you must be right, for the lights next to his name indicate both severe bodily damage and depression. I know that Harry's family are not the most caring in the world, but I am sure that it cannot be that bad." Despite his words, he looked sufficiently worried.

Severus snorted, "he's probably still upset because of the mutt dying, and I daresay any physical harm will be a cry for attention. The boy lives for nothing more than popularity, no matter how he tries to get it." He turned away to face the door, "now cast the charm again, and then can we get going to help my godson?" he asked impatiently.

Albus cast the charm again, but the results remained the same. He frowned as he moved back to his desk. "Severus, I must ask you to go and check on Harry for me."

Severus, predictably, exploded, "What! I am not going near that insufferable brat, he has caused me enough pain during term, I am not going to ruin my holidays by seeing his prattish face willingly, besides, I have to go and help Draco."

Albus sighed and steepled his fingers. "Severus, have you considered that to save Draco, you would be putting your position as a spy at risk?" Severus paused and had the grace to blush, it was obvious that he had forgotten about that.

"Albus, I..."

"Never mind now, my boy. The important thing is that we get him to Poppy, so that she can look after him. The other Order members can do that just as well as you. Meanwhile, I need someone to check up on Harry, he is important, as much as you may hate the fact. We need the boy, and we need him alive and well. Please."

Severus sighed, he knew he couldn't refuse the headmaster. So he went to his rooms to change into something a little less conspicuous.

Meanwhile, at number 4 Privet Drive. Harry was living the life of a recluse, and not willingly. He was locked in his bedroom for the best part of each day, only being let out to have his daily meal, what little leftovers were left from the Dursley's dinner, and to go to the bathroom. Apart from that, there was no contact with the outside world. His Uncle Vernon had not put the bars back up on the window, deciding that they were too conspicuous, they might make the neighbours notice. But instead, he had jammed the window shut and sealed it with superglue. No owls were going in or out that summer, he had declared.

Instead, the owls came to the kitchen window, and any letters and presents that came for their nephew were burned before they reached their destination.

Harry had never felt so alone.

He spent most of his time drawing with an old pen he had found in Dudley's broken desk, and his artwork covered pages and pages of the paper from Dudley's broken printer. Across the floor were strewn images of a gateway with a man falling through. Another picture was of a big happy looking dog. But as the pictures became more recent, they became darker. The man was glaring at the artist, the dog's teeth were bared in a snarl.

Words were also a part of this discord of sight. On the piece of paper lying on the desk, pen overlapping some of the strokes was written.

"It's all your fault."

The words were scrawled and gone over again and again. In some places, the pen had gone through the paper, and had dug into the desk.

Across the room lay a small bed, used first when Dudley had first moved out of his cot. And on the bed lay a wretched figure, long and thin, too thin. It was Harry Potter, and he was twisting pitifully in the hold of some dream. A gasp came from his mouth as he sat bolt upright.

Tears started to creep down his cheeks as he whispered brokenly, "Sirius, don't hate me." And then he fell backwards, falling asleep once more, taking no notice of the scars, old and new across his arms. His body flopped, as if in defiance of the marks across his back, the marks that would have anyone other than the Boy who Lived, screaming with agony.

But no, this boy ignored them, he was used to the pain.

* * *

Heyla, thanks for reading this far!! If you have any ideas at all, feel free to review and tell me because i just wrote this with no real ideas as to where its going. Or else you can just review to tell me what a great author i am... nah, didn't think you'd fall for that one... ANyways...  
  
gtg luvya all, Katlyn 


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